


Wandering is good for the soul

by TemperateWriting



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adventure/Wandering, Alternate Universe, DreamSMP - Freeform, Gen, Idk there’s angst and fluff soo.., L’manberg, Mage AU, hurt/comfort?, more characters tba - Freeform, more tags tba
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26841427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TemperateWriting/pseuds/TemperateWriting
Summary: An AU that takes place after the war, yet before the election.==—==—==—==Everybody grieves differently. Tommy is stuck in his own pit of sorrow when he finds a gift left specifically for him.One thing leads to another, and he finds himself adventuring alone, towards uncharted lands.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 81





	1. Author’s Note

Hi! 

This is a continuation of my “Post-war takes its toll” work, but in no way do you have to read that to understand what is going on. You might just get some references, though. 

It’s also what I work on when I have an impulse to write, so chapters will range in length, topics, etc etc. 

Mage AU is a thing but not the main focus. Most of this is just random writing. I have a beginning, end, and some plot points in the middle, but otherwise it’s a toss up about what the hell I want to write. 

Shipping real people is not ok. Especially if they are minors and/or uncomfortable with it. Shipping their persona is debatable for many. The reason I say this is because the relationships here a fully platonic.


	2. Parchment within stone

Music filled the room, pouring out seamlessly from the jukebox located by the back wall. A curved bench made for easier seating.

A tall blond, despite the bench, sat in the corner of the room, blue eyes blankly staring at the exit. “Blocks,” the disc playing, was one of the only ones that he liked, and still could enjoy after the events he had lived through. It’s tune was upbeat, and had some historical value to it.

So why did Tommy feel like he was sinking with every note that played? Why did his limbs feel like lead and cooked noodles at the same time?

… Why couldn’t he get a grasp of himself, to pull his mind out of this grieving state?

He sat in his own misery for another cycle of the disk. Tommy’s thoughts were everything and nowhere at the same time. Even as he tried to distract himself, the topics that whirled around in his head always came back to those two individuals.

Fuck, he needed a better distraction. Idly listening to music wasn’t ever going to cut it. With a heavy sigh and lack of motivation, Tommy dragged himself to his feet and carefully pulled out the disc.

Straight into the enderchest. A habit at this point, developed in much better times. When his belongings getting stolen was the main concern.

The odd container closed with a whoosh as normal, disk inside. That left the matter of figuring out what to do next.

Absent-mindedly, Tommy opened the normal chests, hands tracing across the random objects inside them. Many would have collected dust if he didn’t reorganize the chests several times. He let out a slight scoff of recognition at that. Tommy used to never sort his belongings.

His fingers ran over an odd piece of parchment, snapping back his attention. It was sticking out of the random stones he had collected over time, mostly from mining. He pulled out the rolled document, confusion washing over him.

This wasn’t his. He didn’t place that there, especially not recently. A thread of pink wool tied it together, and Tommy carefully undid the knot.

He wasn’t expecting a large map. One documented with forests, mountains, deserts. It seemed in progress, as there were large, blank spaces curving around the corners. Places where nobody has ever documented, and perhaps never been.

A smaller note fell onto the floor, and Tommy picked it up, hoping for some kind of explanation. It was hand-written.

_Felt like you could put this into use. If not, feel free to leave this outside your pace and I’ll come pick it up for myself. Both sides are struggling right now, I can promise you that._   
_There is no end goal, no tasks to follow. This is what you make of it, Tommy. We all need a break._

It ended at that. No signature, no further explanation. What the fuck?

Even if the clues were there, Tommy had no energy to figure out who had left him the gift. His thought process was instead on what the hell to do with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh this is short. Aiming for a longer chapter next time.


	3. President’s Approval.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t proofread this at all.

Even Tommy was surprised by the amount of energy he put into his sprint down the wooden path. He held the map tightly in one hand, but not in a way to crinkle it unnecessarily. 

He needed to find Wilbur. He would be the final say, he had to be. He was in charge of course, and a sudden disappearance would worry the man to no end. They’d both promised to each other that they’d at least let the other know before doing anything major. It was the safeguard they agreed on. 

(Karl Jacobs watched the blond whizz by his house, left staring dumbfounded.)

Through the tunnel and down the stairs. For his own health, Tommy slowed. If he slipped, it wasn’t unlikely he would fall the rest of the way. 

It just made sense that you shouldn’t look like an immature, problematic toddler when asking permission to do something as large as this. If anything, it’ll only give Wilbur another chance to call him a child, and he’ll deny Tommy’s request. 

He really didn’t enjoy being called a child. 

==o==

“Wilbur!” 

The president jumped as Tommy slammed open the door of the already damaged caravan. His mouth opened to make a sarcastic response, but closed quickly. Wilbur instead scanned Tommy, eyes glinting with.. worry, perhaps? 

It was probably something like that. It was only that morning that he was sulking, of course. Now, the sun threatened to disappear behind the horizon. Yeah, it took him a long while to decide what he wanted to do. 

Wilbur cleared his throat, “Uh- What is it, Tommy?” 

Tommy promptly shoved the map into Wilbur, who took it carefully. Clearly, he was still confused about various things. The president couldn’t bite back his own curiosity, and opened the map carefully. 

A silence hung over the room as he reviewed the map. Tommy watched his eyes flick around the parchment. The Caterography was a lot to take in, somehow amazingly detailed despite the sheer size of it. 

“... Tommy, what does this have to do-“ Wilbur began, but Tommy quickly cut him off. 

“I want to go, Wilbur.”

Another moment of silence washed across them. Wilbur was obviously choosing his words carefully. Tommy shifted his weight, waiting impatiently. 

“Go where, Tommy? This has other SMPs, many important landmarks and regions..” Wilbur sighed. 

“Nowhere in particular. Just.. away.” Tommy quickly added, “Not forever.” 

“You have duties here, Tommy. You’re the Vice President, there’s so many things-“ 

“Please.” 

Tommy’s voice was suddenly desperate without him meaning to. As if the sorrow he had before slipped out from it’s hiding to highlight the boy’s words. Wilbur didn’t continue his statement. 

It was a hot minute before Wilbur’s own voice turned raw, “Go over some things with me, will you?” 

==ø==

Wilbur always saw Tommy as somebody born with perhaps too much passion. It blinded him at times, causing incidents that nobody could unsee. Incidents that tested other’s honor, drove many to wit’s end. It was often scary, the worst of the recent would be, namely, the duel. Wilbur could still hear the muffled, pitiful cry as Tommy fell into the river, only to be barely saved by Tubbo and his magic. 

Tubbo wasn’t here anymore, nor anybody on their side who knew any healing magic. It was after the second death, the death of his own son, that Wilbur swore to do everything in his power to protect the citizens left in L’manberg. 

The short-term plan was to gently tell Tommy no. He had duties here, sure, but what if he couldn’t help him when he was miles out? Mobs spawned way too frequently in unclaimed land, and not all SMPs were friendly. 

And yet, it was a one-worded plea he couldn’t argue against. A one-worded plea filled with emotion and grief, one that reminded Wilbur that he wasn’t the only one suffering. Tommy needed time alone, time for himself. Even if it was, in fact, miles away with little to no communication. 

“You’ll promise you will make an effort to return as soon as you see fit?” Wilbur asked slowly, gaining a semi-confident nod as a response. 

“.. Alright. I’ll at least have to help you pack the essentials, and you have to promise to stay away from other SMPs.” 

“All other SMPs?” Tommy’s voice was almost a whine. Wilbur’s response was firm, 

“Yes. You’ve seen what others can do to people they know, Tommy. Now imagine what they can do to strangers.” 

After only a tad more debating, Tommy finally gave in. In no way could he make sure Tommy followed this promise, but it was the best Wilbur could do. 

With a heavy sigh, the president gingerly handed the map back. “Then it’s settled, Tommy. Just.. let me know when you’re packing tomorrow.” 

Wilbur, once again, could only pray that things would go smoothly. 


End file.
